He was a writer and a prolific reader. But today whatever he read didn't agree with him. He tried to forget the uneasiness by taking a stroll. But the words just bobbed up and down his uneasy self. His stomach churned. He was feeling nauseous. His hands trembled. He somehow made it to the garbage can next to the park. He threw up like never before. The words just flowed out of him as if a dam burst. He saw them lying there in the moonlight. The long ones and the short ones, complete with punctuations and accents. He spat out the last few words that were in his mouth and went to the nearby tap to wash off the familiar bad print taste.
He couldn't keep count of the days or nights as he was always surrounded by darkness. No he wasn't blind nor did someone blindfold him. He fell in to a deep dark hole that's all. He was rushing to catch the last train home. Since it was getting late he decided to take the shortcut. Before he fell, all that he saw was a lamppost by the tracks. The impact of the fall switched off the lights in his brain. When he recovered, it was dark. He tried to feel his way around. But to his surprise all that he could feel was the darkness around him. It was as if he was encased in a thick gooey dark liquid. It held him tight. It moved with his movements. It felt as if he was part of the liquid. He floated in it. He never felt hungry or cold. In fact he felt comfortable. For the first time, he felt safe. Slowly he began to forget what he was and whom he knew. In this darkness, it was impossible to wrack his brain. Everything was slowly getting shrouded in darkness. Until that day when he ...
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